


someone whose face you can see in the dark

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Conversations, Cousy RomFest 2k17, Daisy is Coulson's heart, F/M, Flirting, Glasses, Male-Female Friendship, Rain, Trust, falling in love in the Framework, flirting o'clock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Daisy talks Coulson into trying new ways of seeing in the Framework. For Cousy RomFest 2k17 - DAY 3 · 29 March Coulson’s glasses





	

"Take them off."

He looks at her like it's the most absurd request she's made yet. Even though it really isn't.

She just waits patiently, and twists the cup of coffee between her hands.

Then he sighs and draws the glasses down his face and blinks a few times. Stares up at her. Focuses.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a really symmetrical outline?" he shoots back, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

He's annoyed. Mostly at himself for wanting to believe her to begin with.

"It's okay," she nods. "If you don't believe me."

"I've had them my whole life," he goes on, setting them down on the table in the booth between them, and pressing up against the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Why he cares that this stranger seems disappointed is gnawing at him. It's something about her determination, that she has the kind of hope he's never had.

This is their second meeting, but she just sees things so differently from the way that they are. And something in his gut wants to believe her, even though all the facts tell him otherwise.

"It makes sense that they would want to change the way you see things," she adds, her hand reaching forward to touch the glasses. "You're the kind of guy that could help me figure all of this out."

He wonders again at these hints of hers about exactly the kind of guy she thinks he was.

"Can I?" she asks, waiting for him to nod and then he can tell she's drawing the glasses up from the tabletop.

It feels like they were something...before. Or, she makes it seem like it was like that. Something nice. _Familiar_.

And that it was important in some bigger kind of way.

"Okay," she tells him, stretching a hand out in front of her, "So, you're farsighted."

She moves her fingers across the table towards him, until she touches the sleeve of his jacket.

"Yes," he answers, looking down at the outline, the shape of her hand on him. The strange feeling, again, like it should mean something.

"You never wore tweed, either," she says, a smile in her voice. "It is tweed, right? It's so _scratchy_."

"Right," he says, leaning forward, and reaching towards her face and she holds in place, as he slips the glasses off of her, his fingers touching her briefly.

He turns them, putting them back on, pulls his arm back and sets it behind the edge of the table and peers at her, as she looks like she's about to say something, but has pressed a pause button.

"That's a little personal, don't you think?" he asks, leaning forward and breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah," she admits. "I guess it is. Did I mention that we live together?"

"Okay," he nods, and starts to slide out of the booth. That's enough for one day.

"I mean, in the same place, not... _together_ together," she explains, starting to follow him. "Like, I don't know the kind of underwear you wear, but I could guess?" She seems momentarily amused at his appalled expression, then reaches for him again.

"Coulson, we're just friends."

"You realize how all of this sounds, right?" he asks, his hands pressed against the top of the table, ready to bolt.

She draws her bottom lip against her teeth and then looks out the window of the diner.

"I'm sorry," she answers, with a shake of her head. "But did you forget to check the weather? Because it's raining and you totally didn't bring Lola's hard top."

His eyes widen, for a number of reasons, but he digs out some money from his wallet for the coffees and throws it down on the table before he runs outside to the parking lot.

His glasses are fogging up and it's definitely raining - he did check the weather report, he always does- and it doesn't matter at his point, because he's going to be driving home in this.

"I'm sorry."

He spins around to stare at her, standing in the rain with him and Lola, getting drenched.  Why?  This seems so...pointless.

"Did you get all of this out of a file?" he asks, walking over to her. Thinking about all the warnings he's been taught. How some people might not be as they appear.  That some of them are different on the inside.

" _No_ ," she tells him, shaking her head. The rain is making her hair stick to her face, and her voice sounds sad, and even desperate.

"Why me?" He knows there are other people she's looking for. But she keeps coming back. With those big, brown eyes of hers.

He shrugs and slips his jacket off, and then holds it over the two of them, as the sound of the rain drums against the top of it.

"I thought that you would know me," she says slowly, her confidence from before seeming to falter, now that they're alone. "You always have."

"I'm a little in the dark here," he answers, not wanting to upset her more. For whatever reason, he can't stand to see her upset.

"Even there," she tells him, lifting her hand to brush her fingers over his cheek, wiping at the drops of rain there. "Even in the darkness."

It's hard to tell, because she's so still and quiet, why it's effecting him this much. He puts one arm around her, and ushers them together until they're under the small awning where it's still dry.

Shaking his jacket off, he folds it over his arm and then when he looks at her again, he's not sure if it's the rain, or if she's crying, but he wants to make it stop.

He takes the glasses off, and wipes away the condensation, then feels his way towards her, lifting his hand and brushing his thumb against the corner of her eye.

"You were right, I don't need these to see you."

She pushes the breath out of him as she hugs herself to his chest, and he stops himself from hesitating. Lets himself hug this almost-perfect stranger.

He can't remember the last time he felt like this, as a warmth floods his chest. When it wasn't about being watched, or afraid. Making sure no one messed up so they wouldn't be a target.  

That everyone is human and everything is safe.

It's like his heart has started beating again.

She was right. There is something wrong with this world.

The people around them coming and going. Cataloguing all of their movements, their body language, making sure they're not stepping out of line. Following all the rules.

God, there are so many rules.

Her eyes are still huge and brown, but there's something that wasn't in them before.

As impossible as his reasoning makes it seem, he believes her. That this moment is somehow more real than any he remembers coming before.

"We should go," she tells him, hiding her face against the front of his shirt for a moment, tugging it against her. "They're watching."

He narrows his eyes, and high up above them, feels the rain stop and all that's left of it is the steam rising from the asphalt.

"Let them," he answers, then presses his lips to her forehead, his hand on her shoulder for just a moment.

The gesture seems to take her by surprise, and he's not sure what to do next, only that it felt real, again. A small act of defiance.

She stills again and then touches her fingers along his arm, to his hand, taking the glasses out of them.

"Coulson. We're just friends," she tells him, wearing a bemused expression, as he digs the keys out of his wet jacket pocket.

"Not here," he reminds her, with a raise of his eyebrows, as she fits his glasses back into place.

"Right," she nods at him, her lips parted, something curious in her up-close expression. "Can I drive Lola?"

"No," he scoffs.

She laughs as she drops her hands, and he follows her to his car.

He wants to hear her laugh again.


End file.
